


3 times Daisy met Coulson undercover and one time she didn't

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Coulson living in a van, F/M, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Jealousy, Kissing, Marriage Proposal, Partnership, Role Reversal, Sexual Tension, Slow Dancing, Speculation, Undercover, characters that canonically don't like each other I'll let you figure out who, mentions of other relationships, stealing lines from Star Wars again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:12:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5378162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically what it says.  Speculative about Daisy and Coulson's roles reversing somewhat and Coulson working outside of SHIELD.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3 times Daisy met Coulson undercover and one time she didn't

1.

“Mind if I cut in?”

She knows it’s him before she even sees his face, and the frown on Lincoln’s confirms it.  
  
“Actually? Yes.”  
  
Coulson tilts his head and she's seen this look, on him before, knows what it means.  
  
“Hey,” she says, putting her hand on Lincoln’s chest and meeting his eyes.  “Give me a minute?”  
  
Lincoln grits his teeth and walks away. She'll make it up to him later.  
  
Coulson takes her hand and she glances at his tuxedo, the clean shave.  
  
The scar on the neck is new. Not that prominent, but still.  
  
“Cut yourself shaving?” she quips.  
  
He smirks. “Yes. With someone else's machete. Nice to see you, too.”  
  
“What are you doing here?” she says, looking over his shoulder for the drop they’re waiting for.  Hoping this isn’t throwing off Lincoln, too.  
  
“Working. Yourself?”

“You keep turning up when I least expect it,” she sighs out, feels him hand move lower down her back.  
  
He looks at her curiously, as they move across the dance floor. “Shouldn't you, then, be expecting it by now?”  
  
“You mean like the gopher from Caddyshack?”  
  
“Ouch. And, random,” he says in mock pain.

“Contraband from my orphanage days,” she remarks, and she doesn't smile.

Almost.

“I like working with nice men,” she starts. “Nice men who-“

“I'm nice men,” he cuts in, glancing away.  
  
Probably casing the room this whole time instead of being distracted by aftershave.  
  
“What do you want out of this?” she asks, cutting to the chase.  
  
“Should we work together?” he answers with a mischievous look.  
  
“That depends. Do we both get something we want or only one of us?”  
  
“I'll share if you will,” he promises, raising his eyebrows at her.

She lets go and leaves him there, walking towards Lincoln at the bar.

“No,” Lincoln says, as she approaches.  
  
“He's got some additional intel he's willing to share,” she offers.  
  
“You know what he's doing.”  
  
“Yes,” she nods. “He wants information on that cryptographic device.”  
  
“Since when are you a cryptographic device?” he leans forward and asks under his breath.  
  
“Stop it,” she says, locking eyes with him.  
  
“We don't need him.”  
  
“He's probably right,” Coulson shrugs, walking up next to them, waving off the bartender.  
  
“It's only to keep an eye on you.”  
  
“Trust issues,” he shrugs. “I get that.”  
  
“My issues aren't trust issues,” Lincoln says, moving his eyes over him like he's planning target practice.  
  
Coulson looks between them. “Are you two a thing now?”  
  
Daisy rolls her eyes at him.

“It’s…cute?”

 

2. 

“Mmph,” she's frustrated, sucking in her lower lip.  
  
“I just want-,” she mutters, wiggling her hands some more, vibrates the buckle when her fingers touch metal.  
  
“ _Daisy_.”

He says it like this could all be over for him in an instant.  
  
“Hold on,” she orders, just trying to get at... "What the hell kind of belt are you wearing?”  
  
“The old fashioned kind,” he growls, dragging his lips over her neck.  
  
“This isn't working,” she huffs, banging the back of her head against the closet door.  
  
“I know,” he says. “I'm a terrible person. It's too soon, and I'm a mess right now.”  
  
“What?” she asks, pushing up against him. “No. No, you're not Phil.”

She takes her hands away from his belt buckle and wriggles one free.  This is not about the breakup.  
  
“I meant this closet,” she says, putting her fingers against his face. “Sheesh.”  
  
“Ok,” he says stoically.  "Secret facility, admittedly, not the best place."

And she can see the twitch in his jaw before he gives her a quick kiss. “I have an idea.”  
  
He drops to his knees and she watches him tug the bottom of her field suit down in the dim light.  
  
“Definitely not too soon,” she groans, as his tongue flicks against her once he has her underwear down far enough.

His head is pressing her pelvis up against the door, creating some amazing friction.

“Do you know how bad I've been wanting to get my hands on you?” she tells him.  
  
“No,” he says pausing for a moment to pull away and catch his breath. “Tell me.”  
  
“All of your dorky come-ons,” she hisses. “And that cocky smile of yours.”

She makes a little whimpering noise and feels her legs shake as he gets back to work. She can tell he’s pretty pleased with himself.

Just picturing his dorky, smirking face doing this to her...

“Ugh, I'm getting close.”  
  
“You like that I'm a dork,” he says, cocky, then makes teasing small circles with his tongue, dragging it out.  
  
“Yes. Yes, I do,” she begs, drags her nails over his head as he moans against her.

She comes, and she can't help it, it turns into laughing.  
  
“Are you ticklish?” he asks curiously.  
  
“I just, I never thought this is how we'd…,” she says as she reaches down with a hand to caress his face, still chuckling.  
  
She looks down at him still parked between her thighs with a hopeful expression.  
  
“In your office one night? After we worked late planning an op,” she sighs, when he stands up.  
  
“I don't have an office, so, work with me here.”  
  
“Is Lola your office?” she says with a flick of her eyes.  She can be charming, too.  
  
“No, she's not stealthy enough. She's in storage,” he says a bit sadly. “I have a van.”  
  
She laughs in disbelief. “When are you going to show me your van?”  
  
“None of this phases you, does it?” he asks, shaking his head.  
  
She eyes him more thoroughly, holding back a reply.  
  
“Did you give me thigh burn, with that stuff on your face?”  
  
“You like that, too, don't you?”

She does.  She likes the 5 ‘o'clock and how messy he seems right now.

Not in a bad way.  
  
“I like you not being such a SHIELD guy.”  
  
She manages to get her fingers around his arm and gives him a tender kiss.

 

3.

“Daisy?”  
  
This is quite the reversal.  
  
She's got her Team and SHIELD is tailing them down the corridor, in a building dressed up like a weirder version of The Mummy, and why is he wandering solo over here?

Why is Coulson even here?  
  
“You're back with SHIELD?” she asks, lowering her hand. A little annoyed since she hasn't heard from him in awhile.  
  
“Yeah. They lost a few key people,” he says drolly. “You might've heard?”  
  
“Still hilarious,” she deadpans, tilts her head at the others to move on.  
  
“Coping mechanism,” he says, frowning at her. “For when my girl goes underground without contact for weeks.”

“I think _you’re_ the one-“  
  
“Hi, Phil,” Joey says walking towards him, gives him a friendly wave.  
  
“Hey, Joey. how are you?” he answers, starts to walk towards him as well.  
  
“Way into that craft brew you rec'd to Daisy,” he says, putting his hands on his hips. “Thanks, man.”  
  
“Guys, he's hunting us.”

She steps in between him and Joey.  
  
“No. No, I'm not,” he says, offended, glancing at Joey, then Yo-Yo when she stops beside him. “I'm double agenting. You're all free to go, except for this one.”

He points at her.  
  
“Meet you back at the base?” Joey asks, wiggling his eyebrows at Daisy.  
  
She rolls her eyes.  
  
“Dammit, Coulson,” she starts, once they’re out of earshot.  
  
“What's wrong with Phil?”  
  
“We're in the field.  That’s what,” she says, crossing her arms.  
  
“Not even a thanks for infiltrating SHIELD so I can bail you out for once?  No word from you for weeks, and now-”  
  
“Just be careful, okay,” she says, grabbing the front of his flack vest and pulling him in for a kiss.  
  
“You know me, dearest,” he jokes, but kind of not, staring at her like he’d like more than a kiss.

“What could go wrong?”  
  
She acts like she's thinking on it.  
  
“Don't answer that.”  
  
He kisses her back.

“Now, I need you to shoot me. Just a little bit.”

 

4.

“Ow,” he complains as she adds another stitch above his eyebrow.  
  
“You're lucky you're not dead,” she says punishingly.  
  
“Why? Is it better when you're almost dead?” he says, looking straight ahead from his perch on the safehouse kitchen counter.  
  
“That...thing,” she says, feeling a chill run over her. “I don't even know where to put that.”  
  
“On the other hand,” he says with a little smile. “The world is safe, and we're on the same side again.”  
  
“Sending you through the portal again was a bit callous,” she says, an edge to her voice. “After everything that happened the first time.”  
  
“To be fair, I jumped through the first time. I had good reasons the second,” he whispers, kissing the top of her head.

She hums her agreement, and puts her hand on his knee for a moment, just resting in his arms.

“And a clear head. Which,” he says animatedly, “makes me wonder if we shouldn't make this teamwork thing permanent?”

She’s done with the stitches and cuts the string, then places the scissors on the table.  
  
“Are you going to request me as your field partner?”  
  
“No,” he scoffs. “You were, like, two seconds from being kicked out. They just need you for Inhuman PR.”  
  
“Thanks. Confidence booster," she says, shooting him a sideways look.  
  
“I mean I want to marry you. SHIELD stuff aside, that's what I want.”

She looks up at him. 

That’s it?  
  
“You just proposed to me.”  
  
“Is that okay? Because if it's not-“  
  
“Shut up and kiss me. Dork.”

She tips her head up to his, and he takes her face in his hands.  
  
“Is that yes?” he says, with that hopeful look that she never gave up on.

He kept saving it for her.  
  
“Yes.”


End file.
